


On Yons

by tinsnip



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's garden, Ficlet, Gardening, M/M, Onions, Silly, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), slice and dice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/pseuds/tinsnip
Summary: “Aziraphale. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”Aziraphale wiped his eyes, then winced as the tears redoubled: that really hadn’t helped. “Oh, Crowley,” he said resignedly, “it’s just these onions.”They looked at the cutting board. The onion glared back at them, round and full of menace.Crowley snatched it up, held it close to his face. “What the fuck did you say to him?”Directly inspired bythis amazing piece of Good Omens fanart. imoomin, I thank you!





	On Yons

Aziraphale’s vision blurred. He paused, bowing his head. The knife felt heavy in his hand.

Just a moment, he promised himself. Just a moment and then he’d get back to his work. He was _good_ with a knife. It was what he was _for._

Just... just a moment, first.

 _Thud,_ went the door, and demonic energy flared in his senses: Crowley.

“Aziraphale. You’re crying. What’s _wrong?”_

Aziraphale wiped his eyes, then winced as the tears redoubled: that really hadn’t helped. “Oh, Crowley,” he said resignedly, “it’s just these onions.”

They looked at the cutting board. The onion glared back at them, round and full of menace.

Crowley snatched it up, held it close to his face. “What the _fuck_ did you say to him?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“I _raised_ you,” said Crowley, voice full of low menace. “I gave you _dirt._ I _watered_ you. Good fucking plant food, I fed you. Every day I visited, didn’t I. I warned you. And _this_ is how you repay me.”

Aziraphale had moved on to tomatoes.

“Bring It out, angel. And the extension cord.”

Aziraphale gestured wordlessly to the corner cabinet, where It lurked.

“You’re going to be an _example,_ my friend. Of how we _don’t_ do things around here.”

A few minutes later, Aziraphale had moved on to grating the cheese. From the garden, the food processor howled. So did the garden.

Oh, well, thought Aziraphale. Crowley did grow the very best Vidalias.


End file.
